


Study Parties and Sprite

by TheDarknessFactor



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Gen, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 23:31:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8917507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarknessFactor/pseuds/TheDarknessFactor
Summary: It’s hard not to be intrigued by a new student - especially when the school has only a few hundred kids.  Steve can’t walk five feet around Dehlis High without hearing something whispered about her.  Usually it’s comments about her background, and how she’s everything from a Russian assassin to a supermodel.  
Steve passes it off as a phase.  Eventually, everyone will get used to her presence, and she’ll fade into the background of his school.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I received this prompt _ages_ ago. I never quite had the motivation or the time to finish it until just recently, so here it is! Hope you guys like it.

For almost an entire month, everyone knows about Natasha Romanoff.  

It’s hard not to be intrigued by a new student - especially when the school has only a few hundred kids.  Steve can’t walk five feet around Dehlis High without hearing something whispered about her.  Usually it’s comments about her background, and how she’s everything from a Russian assassin to a supermodel.  

Steve passes it off as a phase.  Eventually, everyone will get used to her presence, and she’ll fade into the background of his school.

If she minds being the center of attention, however, she certainly doesn’t show it.  She’s always got a cordial smile for the people brave enough to talk to her, and her stride is surefooted in a way that makes Steve just a tiny bit jealous.  

Unsurprisingly, she never even comes close to interacting with him; their social circles aren’t compatible.  Every so often Bucky will mention her in conversation, but Steve doesn’t really pay it any mind.

That is, until his inhaler is stolen.

Stealing Steve Roger’s inhaler is apparently considered some kind of rite of passage for the other kids at Dehlis High.  He’s used to it enough that he’s less worried about the immediate consequences and more worried about how a new inhaler is going to make another dent in his Ma’s paycheck.

In this particular instance, however, instead of opening his backpack to find it missing, it’s smacked right out of his hands.

Rumlow picks it up before he has the chance, offering it back to him.  “You dropped this, Rogers.”

Steve does his best to take slower breaths, not taking the bait.  He doesn’t want to draw attention to himself by making Ms. Hemshaw freak out again and send him to the nurse’s office.  He just stares Rumlow down, ignoring the fact that his asthma attack is only going to get worse the longer this goes on.

Rumlow shrugs.  “Guess I’ll keep it.”  This time Steve can’t help himself, making an aborted movement towards it that has Rumlow laughing.

“Well, if you want it back so bad…”  He shoves Steve back with one hand.  

People are starting to gather around now, waiting for the inevitable one-sided fight.  Steve fights the urge to sigh, raising both fists and trying not to think about how much he is going to hurt later.

Before either of them can move, however, a third voice rings out.

“Seriously, Rumlow?”

Natasha Romanoff appears from seemingly nowhere, plucking the inhaler out of Rumlow’s hand before he even has the chance to blink.  Steve vaguely recalls that she’s in his Phys. Ed. class.

“Guess you don’t have better things to do than steal people’s inhalers,” she comments.  When Rumlow glares at her, she folds her arms.  “Are you gonna fuck off, or do I have to make you?”

“Whatever, Romanoff,” Rumlow mumbles.  He walks over to the track, getting ready to run the 400 yard with the next group.  Romanoff, meanwhile, hands Steve his inhaler.  He takes a gulp from it, feeling his lungs start to settle.

“Thanks for the save,” he says.  

“No problem,” she replies.  She offers a hand, and Steve can’t help but notice the corded muscles in her arm.  “I’m Natasha.  I don’t think we’ve met yet.”

To his surprise, it’s easy to look her in the eye.  Even if she’s got an inch or two on him.

“Steve Rogers,” he says, shaking her hand.  “It’s nice to meet you too.”

She eyes him thoughtfully.  “Does that guy usually like to push you around?”

Steve doesn’t like to admit it, but she’s probably heard a thing or two about his reputation for being a pushover already.  “Him and a couple others.  Bucky usually tries to set them straight, but it gets him in trouble.  I may fire him and hire you instead - you’re the first person to come up with a non-violent solution.”

Natasha shrugs.  “I dunno.  If he’d really wanted a fight, he would’ve gotten one.”

Noticing just now how… fit Natasha seems to be, Steve has hard time doubting that.

“Anyway, I gotta run another 400,” Natasha says.  “See you later.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees.  “See you.”

* * *

Steve isn’t really sure why Natasha Romanoff suddenly wants to cultivate a friendship with him in particular, but she starts sitting with him and Bucky at their lunch table.  

As with most things, Bucky takes it in stride.  “’Sup Red?” he calls, on the second day.

Natasha smirks.  “The ceiling.”

“Oh god, you’re one of _those_.  Get away from me before the Dad Jokes destroy my soul.”

Steve snorts.  “Buck, you crack Dad Jokes every other day.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, staring Bucky down.  Bucky raises both hands in surrender.  

“Okay, Steve, you got me there.”  He sits next to Steve and starts wolfing down his plate of pasta (Bucky’s the only one of the three of them who actually enjoys the cafeteria food).  Natasha smirks and goes back to her sandwich, while Steve stares at the banana that his mom packed for him.

Bucky notices.  “Did your banana hurt you, somehow?”

“What?  Oh.”  Steve shrugs, peeling it and taking a bite.  “No, it’s… I’ll tell you later.”

He’s thinking about asking Natasha if he could take classes at her uncle’s studio, somehow.  He knows that his ma can’t afford it, and he always used to dismiss it as something he wouldn’t be able to do anyway, due to the state of his health.  By now, however, he knows that Natasha has been training almost since she could walk, and she seems to think he’d stand a chance.

His phone chimes with a message.  Steve checks it, feeling his heart leap when he sees who it’s from.

Bucky cranes his neck to read over Steve’s shoulder.

“Tell Peg I said ‘hey’,” he instructs, before going back to his pasta.  Steve nods in reply, his fingers already flying over the keyboard as he writes back to her.

_At the Smithsonian museums today.  It’s fantastic!  Next time, I’m dragging you here just so you can see all your favorite exhibits._

_Sounds fun, Peggy.  Wish I could be there._

He waits a few moments before his phone pings again.

_I wish you could, too._

There’s no getting around the fact that he can’t, though.  

Natasha seems curious, but she stares at his phone for a moment before going back to eating.  He appreciates her willingness not to ask questions.  Most people would immediately try to dig their nose into his business.  

He types ‘Bucky says hi’ before he puts his phone away, practically able to hear Peggy’s warm laughter when she reads that.  

He pulls out his sketchbook after he finishes eating, drawing a quick outline of Bucky’s side profile for a warm-up before he looks at Natasha.  For some reason, he can’t seem to stop himself from fixating on the muscle in her upper arms.  He shakes himself when she catches his gaze, quirking an eyebrow.

“Mind if I draw you?” he asks.  

Natasha shrugs.  “Go ahead.”

He ends up not finishing the sketch before the bell for afternoon classes rings, unable to put more detail into her face after the amount of care he took in outlining the rest of her profile.  He shows it to her, hoping that she doesn’t laugh in its face.

She grins at him, her eyes lighting up.  “Wow, nicely done on the realism.  And you barely had, like, ten minutes to do this, too.”

When he walks into his English class a few minutes later, not even Rumlow throwing a ball of paper at him is enough to make him stop smiling.

* * *

Natasha folds her arms.  “Yeah, my uncle’ll be happy to give you some lessons.  We need someone to help out around the studio, though.”

“Yeah, sure.”  Steve says, nodding vigorously.  “Whatever you need.  Thanks.”

Natasha’s uncle introduces himself as Nick Fury, but instructs Steve to call him ‘Fury’.  It’s a name that suits the man a little too well, especially when he’s in full-on instructor mode and barking out orders.  He doesn’t once go easy on Steve, although the training regimen he gives him is a little toned-down compared to others.

“You aren’t gonna be able to handle much at first,” Fury warns him on his first day.  “We’ll work up to that.  But I’m gonna make sure it’s not easy, either.”

And it isn’t.  Steve is doing ten push-ups and fifteen sit-ups before and after every session, and by the end of each his muscles always feel like jello.  He learns basic methods for getting out of an opponent’s hold, but it’s a weak before he can successfully use them on Natasha (who’s his training partner more often than not), and two more before he can even think about using them on Fury himself.

Life and school go on, all the while.  As finals approach and the Nevada weather turns more mild, Steve finds himself swamped with schoolwork and frustrated with math.  History and biology have always been his strengths, but math has always given him some trouble.

Natasha sits both him and Bucky down in a deserted classroom after school one day.  

“I have an idea,” she says.  “We help each other out with the subjects we’re struggling with, instead of just bitching about it at lunchtime.  Deal?”

“Help sounds good,” Bucky says, voice muffled.  He’s got his head buried in his arms, and Steve remembers that he pulled an all-nighter for a project the day before.

The arrangement adds to his routine.  After school, he goes to Fury’s studio to train, and then meets up at either Bucky’s, Natasha’s, or his house for dinner and studying.  He likes to think that it’s not his fault that most of those study parties turn into watching cat videos and marathoning Xena on Netflix, but he knows that he shares at least some of the blame.

It’s during one such occasion that the subject of Peggy comes up once again.

“Okay, okay, my turn,” Bucky says.  He’s pouring more Sprite for himself.  “Never have I ever been in love.”

Steve shrugs, gulping down his Sprite.  To his surprise, Natasha does the same.  

“At least, I think so,” she says a moment later.  “Maybe.  Guy I used to know at my old school.  He was nice.  Nerdy type.  We, um… didn’t mix great, though.”

She blinks, as if noticing the looks Steve and Bucky are giving her for the first time, and waves her hand.  “No, nothing like _that_.  It just didn’t end up being anything.  Which is fine, now that I think back on it - I was barely out of middle school.”

Steve feels… somewhat obligated to share after that, even though he knows that that wasn’t Natasha’s intention.  “I had another friend growing up.  I’ve probably been in love with her my whole life.  She had to move away a couple years ago, though.”

Natasha nods, looking thoughtful.  “You still in love with her?”

Distantly, Steve can hear his ma berating him for that.   _You are seventeen years old,_ _Steven Grant Rogers, and you have plenty of time for love later in your life_.  Still… 

“Yeah, I think so,” he admits.  “I’m trying to get over it.”

“Not gonna lie,” Bucky says.  “I had them pegged for high school sweethearts years ago.  They were the kind of couple that seemed destined to be, you know?”

Steve looks down at his lap, blushing.

Natasha reached over and clinked her plastic cup against his.  “Well, for what it’s worth, Steve, I think she’d have been lucky to have you.”

* * *

Steve spends finals week either studying or fielding half-panicked phone calls from Bucky.  He even has to put his lessons with Fury on hold for a while, spending his time after school poring over his notes instead and filling out practice tests.  

Somehow they all survive finals week, and they gather at Natasha’s house, where she lives with Fury.  Fury, it turns out, is an accomplished baker, and makes chocolate mint cookies for them all.  They all sit around the plate while reruns of Buffy play on the TV in the room.

“I might eat all of those,” Bucky says, eyeing the plate hungrily.

Natasha punches him in the arm.  “Save some for us, asshole.”

It’s a little bit weird, for them to not have any kind of schoolwork to do.  Instead, they’re free to dig out an ancient Monopoly set, during which Steve would swear Bucky cheats, as he wipes the floor with both him and Natasha.  He rolls his eyes when Bucky cleans him out first, cackling as Steve hands over the rest of his money.  

It’s 10:00 by the time they finish the game, though, and Steve knows that he’ll have to be getting home soon.  Bucky, as they discovered early on, only lives a block away from Natasha, so he waves at them as he walks home.  Steve lives a little further than walking distance, so he accepts a ride from Natasha.

“Thanks,” he says, once they’ve pulled up to his house.

“No problem,” she says.  She suddenly looks nervous, which is… unexpected, because Natasha has never looked nervous before.  Ever.

“Do you wanna see a movie sometime?” she asks him.  “Like, as in a date.  Maybe?”

Steve blinks.  He could’ve sworn that _he’d_ been the one who kept sneaking looks at _her_ , whenever he thought she wasn’t looking.  For purely artistic purposes, he’d told himself, though even he knew that that was a lie.  

He knows that Peggy is still there, somewhere, in the back of his mind.  But then… maybe this would be a more active way to move on.  

“Yeah, sure,” he says.  “Time and place?”

“I’ll text you the details,” Natasha says, giving him a relieved smile.  “See you around.”

Steve watches her drive around the corner.  For a moment something clicks into place, and the world seems more right than it did before.


End file.
